4th December 2009

A Chaplain’s Diary

 

Saturday 28^th November

 

This afternoon, after the wedding of Jane Skinner, a teacher at Bellver International College, the rest of the day was mine. I had no sermon to prepare for tomorrow which always hangs over me and spoils most Saturday nights.  It’s only ever ten minutes long but as someone once said, “it takes half an hour to write a one hour sermon, an hour to write a twenty minute sermon, two hours to write a ten minute sermon and three hours to write a three minute sermon or Thought for the Day”. So….a nice relaxing evening. Cheers! Bottoms up!

 

Advent Sunday 29^th November

 

The Revd. Roy Greenwood preached for us this morning.   Before retiring in 1995 he used to be the English priest responsible for Puerto Pollensa and the north of the island.  As we stood talking in my study beforehand he told me it was 23 years to the day that he had arrived on Mallorca to take over the reins at Puerto Pollensa.  It was 1986 and Katherine Welch, the wife of long time resident and churchwarden Dick Welch, met Roy and his wife at Palma airport to take them up to their new home which in those days was a villa between Pollensa and the port.  It may be 23 years ago now but he said it seemed as though it was only yesterday.

 

Monday 30^th November

 

It’s so cold today. The electric blanket is back on the bed, the curtains are drawn and the butano bottles are filled up.  Its official: winter has arrived!  So now we can all watch lots of television again.  Sighs of relief all round because I love television.  Never mind that it is there to educate, entertain and inform, I like it because it means I can slump in front of it with my slippers on and just goggle at the box for whole evenings.

 

What is it with these folks who say they never watch telly or don’t have one?  I once remember someone on the Church of England’s Communications Committee, of which I was a member declaring he didn’t have a television.  Can you believe it! – so Church of England to appoint someone without a television to its central media committee.  Then there are those people who at posh dinner parties aren’t up to date with Coronation Street or Eastenders.  What is their problem?

 

Telly is one of civilisations greatest achievements – non stop entertainment piped cheaply into your living room.  So what is there not to like?  Some of it may be rubbish but the majority is not and it is still wonderful the hours of pleasure and company it brings to millions.

 

Tuesday 1^st December

 

We always had a dog at home when I was a youngster.  My mother loved dogs but not enough to take them regular walks so that was always my job.  “Can you take the dog for a walk”, was never a question just a subtly worded command.  It was in the same category as “Can you fetch some coal in”, “Can you tell your Dad his tea is ready”, “Can you stop that” or “Can you go up to bed now.”  Why it was always framed as a question I don’t know, and an answer was never required.  In fact if you did answer it was deemed to be “backchat” or “answering back” both punishable by death or something equally robust.

 

In their old age, frail and not so mobile, they decided to have another dog.  Something not too big but something that would be a bit of company and get them out of the house now and then.  A pedigree was out of the question – they were considered too temperamental.   What was needed was a first cross – and the best place for one of those was the Sheffield Dog’s Home.  My mother would probably have filled their Austin Allegro with every dog in the pound which looked longingly at them, but eventually they decided on a small brown puppy.  “Its paws are not too big so it shouldn’t grow too large”, was the reassuring yardstick from my father.

 

Home it went.  They housetrained it, taught it to sit and walk to heel but it grew bigger and bigger by the day.  Carpets were chewed up and it regularly took my diminutive mother for long walks.  Slowly it took over the whole house and they were finding it increasingly difficult to cope with or handle. 

 

I was reminded of all this today when news came through that yet another small child had been savaged to death by a banned breed of dog on Merseyside.  Four year old John-Paul Massey had been savaged by a pit bull terrier in Liverpool.

 

It was when my brother went home one day that the penny dropped. He took one look at the dog and announced “that’s a Rottweiller – it’s going back” and made no more to do than he pushed it in the car and delivered it back to the Dogs’ Home.  After that they had an Irish terrier “Paddy”, a pedigree that cost an arm and a leg – but they justified the expenditure: “he may have been expensive, but we know what breed he is and we know how big he will grow”.  Actually he was a nightmare but my parents liked him!  A bit like their children really.

 

Wednesday 2^nd December

 

The Oratorio at Portals Nous is one of the most popular venues on the island for weddings. Until the new priest arrived to take over, the old priest Don Antonio was responsible for taking bookings.  He was one of those people who always had a twinkle in his eye and although old age had caused him to shuffle a bit he was always very accommodating and welcoming.  Old age had turned him into a liberal.  He had seen it all before and had obviously come to the realisation that rules are there to protect us not to inhibit us.  He could not have cared less whether I was a Catholic, an Anglican or a deep South fundamentalist fire and brimstone preaching Baptist. We were all the same to him.

 

The only problem was that he was a nightmare for organising bookings.  He never seemed to buy a diary until at least February or March which meant that most bookings were done with a stubby pencil in the back of the previous year’s diary.  We even offered to buy him one but he would have none of it and we couldn’t push the point.  As luck would have it there was just one occasion when things went wrong and we could not get into the church, resulting in frantic phone calls. And another when there were three brides on site all at the same time because the bookings had been made too close to each other. 

 

Those days are gone. Today, Julio their new administrator showed me the newly equipped and decorated church office complete with a computerised church diary.  It took just five minutes to check all our wedding bookings for next year.  I noticed we were in red – whether that is our politics or a warning to “watch them” I don’t know.  Actually it rather suited me; at least we are no longer seen as the Tory Party at prayer.

 

Thursday 3^rd December

 

I am glad we live in Mallorca because on Sunday we shall be having our annual Christingle Service – that’s the ceremony where everyone is given an orange with a candle in it, a red ribbon round it and lots of sweets stuck to the sides.  I suppose you’ve guessed now why I’m glad we live in Mallorca, because if we were in the U.K. we would be paying through the nose for 100 oranges.  At least they are a bit cheaper here - not that our Parish Assistant, Linda Cade, will be that worried.  For her the big problem is how to stop her flat reeking of oranges for the next two weeks.  Craftily I have avoided being part of the production line and Linda is in charge.  As an ex head teacher she conducts the service beautifully and is obviously very good with the children.  So I think that’s where we came in – another Saturday night that I can have off and relax.  Last week it was thank you to Roy, this Saturday night it will be thank you to Linda.  Incidentally you’re very welcome.  It’s at 11.00 am on Sunday.

 

 

 

 

 

Fr Robert Ellis is the Anglican Chaplain of Mallorca,

St Philip and St James Church,

Nunez de Balboa 6,

Son Armadans, Palma 07014

Tel: 971 737279

e-mail:anglicanpalma@gmail.com

www.anglican-mallorca.org